


To a Great Mind, Nothing is Little

by alfing



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 10:39:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2147589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alfing/pseuds/alfing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(y/n) is a girl with the knowledge of a library. You know things about everything just by looking or hearing a source of identity. It is an amazing gift, and one day at a cafe..... This talent catches the eye of a certain sociopath........</p>
            </blockquote>





	To a Great Mind, Nothing is Little

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I had no idea what I was thinking when I wrote this. But I hope you enjoy.   
> I wrote this with a fellow friend who you can find here ===> http://www.quotev.com/getboredandshootthewall

You were waiting in line at a cafe, hoping to get some coffee early this morning. But because of all the bloody traffic, you came later than expected. You sighed in relief as you finally got to the front of the line. You heard the bell of the door ring, signaling that another customer had come in, and ignored it.   
"One coffee please, with cinnamon and vanilla cream, and a dash of pumpkin spice. And extra caffeine...." you ordered. As the barista started to walk away with your order, you stopped her.   
"Oh, and Ms Green, don't forget to feed Sebastian, your German Shepherd, today. He hates it when you forget. And Maybelle...... Your Persian, yes. She's been clawing at your couch often, maybe you should get a new one before you invite your new boyfriend, Karl," you told her.   
"How did you-"   
"How did I know? Well, I just know things, Linda. That is what I do," was your reply. Another barista came and gave you your coffee, and you walked off with it. As you left, your shoulder brushed the man's who stood behind you.   
"Impressive," he muttered. Immediately, your scene turned slow motion as you studied the man. Wild curly hair, black coat with its collar sticking up, and a navy blue scarf. You smirked a bit.   
"It's nice meeting you, too.... Mr Holmes," you said slyly as you exited the cafe. 

 

Later that day, as you walked back home from work at the music store, you wandered into Baker Street. You casually walked about, hoping to find an interesting person to chat with, practically failing to do so.   
"Ugh.... everyone on this street is so, dull," you muttered to yourself. A tall, lanky figure stalked out of the building across the road, catching you attention. You recognized the sharp cheekbones, cupid's bow lips, and the crystalline blue eyes as the man who had complimented you in the coffee shop earlier that day. You decided to follow him, and wound up in an abandoned parking space.   
" I see you picked a place remote." His baritone voice echoed through the dim, eerie space.   
No response came, therefore assuring you that it would be safe enough to step forward and say hi. The man turned around and left, leaving his shadow behind without even knowing so. You made up your mind and followed his steps, only to get your shoelaces caught up on a fence.   
" Damn. " You cursed, struggling with the tangles.   
Just as you unraveled the first half of the knot, you felt a strong grasp upon your shoulder. As if in a cheesy horror flick, you turned slowly and dramatically to see a tall, bald man in his mid fifties staring at you with cold, dark eyes. He was at least seven foot tall, with bony limbs. You felt your eyes widen and your breath hitch in your lungs.  
His long hand unhooked your shoe from the fence, while the other wrapped a cold cloth around your mouth and nose.

Your eyes opened slowly to an old light hanging from the ceiling. Clearly in the same space as before, just a different part of it. Another man was standing next to the tall one, which you now identified as the killer Golem who had recently been spotted around the city, talking. He was holding a rusty, bloody knife that looked well worn.  
Of course. Only one serial killer would be too easy to catch. But an entire conspiracy of killers would foil the Scotland Yard and every detective in the nation.  
The two stopped talking and turned to you. Your breath caught, and you slowly looked down, unsure of what eye contact would bring you.  
The one holding the knife made his way over to you, cackling. Not the evil genius in superhero movies kind of cackle, but the I'm-going-to-rip-your-guts-out-while-your-still-alive cackle. The kind that gives you goosebumps.  
He lifted your chin to meet his leathery face and looked you straight in the eye. The space that should have been white in his eyes was a moldy yellow. You gagged. The knife edged closer and closer to you chin, its sharp surface eventually meeting your skin with a sting. It went down to your jawbone and up behind your ear, making a trickle of hot blood run down your neck.  
" What a shame Holmes didn't stay to watch this."   
Your eyes filled with tears as you felt the blade edge to your hairline.  
" What a shame I did." An all too familiar voice remarked from somewhere. Sherlock himself walked into the light, his face calm yet his eyes worried. " Putting the knife down would be a wise decision right about now." The man who used your face as a carving board threw the knife to the floor, while the Golem tackled Sherlock from behind. As much as you tried to move, get up, try to help or do anything, your eyes sagged closed, your system slowly shutting down to blood loss.

You woke up in a hospital bed. Your eyes fluttered open to a doctor talking to a familiar figure. You couldn't here them very well, since your head was surrounded in pillows and blankets. You moved your hand in effort to attract attention, winning a full audience. Sherlock nodded to the doctor, who left the room promptly. He removed the cocoon of warmth from your head and sat down next to your bed. " How are you?"  
" Could be better." You croaked. Your hand moved to your jaw and ear, which were stitched together. "How long was I out?"   
" Few days. They said you should be fine after the stitches are removed."  
You nodded and looked to him. " Thanks for rescuing me."  
" It was my pleasure. You have a wonderful sense of deduction, and because of that I was wondering if you would waste your time going out to dinner with me."  
You managed a smile.  
"I would be delighted to," was your reply. 

 

Later after you were released from the hospital, you left with Sherlock and smiled.   
"So, where are we going?" you asked him.   
"A quaint little Italian restaurant by my flat," he replied. You nodded, smiling some more. The two of you arrived at the restaurant, arms linked.   
As you and Sherlock entered Angelo's, an Italian man walked up to the two of you, and smiled greatly.   
"Ah~ Why, isn't it-ah-Sherlock Holmes~!" he greeted. You smiled at him. The Italian man looked to you, and beamed. "And is-ah-this your date?"   
You blushed slightly as Sherlock kind of protested.   
"I am, (y/n)," you introduced. The Man shook your hand several times.   
"Right-ah-this way, (y/n)," he guided you and Sherlock to a table in the back, and there was a candle sitting in the middle. "I added that to make it more, romantic," he said.   
You chuckled, and Sherlock sighed as the two of you sat down. You looked at the menu as the detective stared at you. You notice his gaze, and blush slightly.   
"I-is there something on my face?" you stuttered a bit cutely. Sherlock noticed this, and his cheeks became a light rosy pink.   
"No.... it's nothing," he said, turning slightly away. You smiled, and looked at the menu. Sherlock glanced back at you, as you turned away, and smiled.

 

After the dinner, the two of you walked out into the night, hand in hand, since it was 'cold'. You and Sherlock walked around for a bit, looking at the city lights, passing by the London Eye. Finally, you stopped at a bridge, and stared over the railing. The view was perfect. The river flowing underneath, dark but littered with the reflection of stars and city lights. Big Ben overlooking the city, and Buckingham Palace sitting beautifully in its place. As you stared, Sherlock stood beside you, looking as well.   
"Beautiful, isn't it?" you asked. The detective looked to you, a faint smile on his face.   
"Yes, more beautiful than you could imagine," he said, most likely to you. You turned to him, and blushed slightly. He was inches apart, and the moon's light made his pale skin glow. His soft curls swaying with the breeze. His beautiful and unique eyes doesn't deserve the name of a color, and they stared into your (e/c) eyes. Slowly, the space between the two of you, began to close, and turned into a passionate kiss. You pulled away slowly, blushing.   
"I-I um....." you stuttered. Sherlock placed a finger over your lips to shush you, and smiled.   
"I know, me too," he whispered sweetly, and kissed you again.


End file.
